Page 41 of We Can Do
She moans softly into my mouth, and I have to consciously loosen my grip on her waist. I want her with an intensity that surprises me—want to feel every inch of her pressed against me, want to lose myself in her completely. But I won’t rush this, won’t risk scaring her away with how much I already need her.
My lips trail along her jaw, finding that spot just below her ear that makes her breath hitch. Her skin is silk under my mouth as I work my way down her neck, tasting the salt and sweetness of her. Her fingers dig into my back, pulling me closer, and we start moving together without conscious thought.
Four legs, one mind, we navigate around the coffee table toward the couch. The backs of my knees hit the cushions and I sink down, the old springs protesting under my weight. Before Ican reach for her, Alexis is climbing onto my lap, straddling me with a confidence that sends my pulse racing.
This is more than I expected, more than I dared hope for. My fingers tangle in her hair as our mouths meet again, the kiss turning hungry, desperate. She rocks against me slightly, and heat rolls through my body in waves. The ache building low in my belly is almost painful in its intensity.
Alexis pulls back, her forehead dropping to rest against mine. We’re both breathing hard, and I can feel her heart racing where her chest presses against mine.
I swallow, trying to find words through the haze of desire. “Would you... like to go to my bed instead?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I feel her tense. Her hesitation is like cold water on my heated skin, and I realize I’ve overstepped.
What the hell am I thinking? This is only our second day of... whatever this is between us. I haven’t taken her on a real date, haven’t bought her flowers or taken her to a nice restaurant. I haven’t proven that I want more than just her body—though I do, God, I want everything with her—but how could she know that?
“Or not,” I rush to say. “Sorry. That was too soon. I shouldn’t have...”
She leans back on my lap, far enough that I can see her whole face. Her expression is serious but not angry. “No, it’s... I want to. It’s not that. It’s just... Before we move forward, I want to tell you that I have a condition called interstitial cystitis.”
I search her face, trying to understand. “Interstitial cystitis?”
“Yeah. It’s also known as Painful Bladder Condition.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “Oh. Shit.” I sit up straighter, my hands moving to her hips to steady her so she doesn’t fall off my lap. “Alexis. I’m sorry. That sounds...”
A sad smile touches her lips. “Painful?”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling completely inadequate.
“Well, it’s in the name, so...” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture I’m beginning to recognize. “It can make sex painful. Sometimes it’s fine, but other times—especially if I’m flaring—it makes penetrative sex a no-go, and other things painful as well.”
My chest tightens with sympathy. “Are you flaring right now?”
“I’m coming off the tail end of a flare, yeah.”
“I’m so sorry.” My hands move up her thighs instinctively, wanting to comfort her, to somehow make this better. But then I freeze, suddenly afraid that even this simple touch might hurt her.
“Thank you.” Her hands settle on my shoulders, warm and reassuring. “I want to be with you. Like, right now. I just don’t think it’s currently a good idea.”
“Of course. Of course not.” I carefully place my hands on her waist, gentle as I can be. “Is touching you here okay?”
Her laugh is light, almost musical, and some of the tension in my chest eases. “Yeah. It is. It’s my pelvic area that’s not doing so good.”
“We can do something else. Anything else.” I meet her eyes, wanting her to see that I mean every word. “I just want to be around you.”
She studies my face for a long moment, like she’s looking for something. Whatever she finds must satisfy her because her expression softens. “I want that, too.”
“Are you hungry? We can grab an early dinner. Or we can watch a movie. Go to the park. Whatever you want to do.”
Her smile starts slow and builds, sweet as honey. “Really? I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to be right here with you.”
The way she says it, low and full of promise, makes me bite my lip to hold back a groan. “That’s what I want too.”
Her eyelashes flutter as she considers something. When she speaks, her voice is quiet but determined. “I do want to go to your bed, Noah. I... I don’t know what we can do, but?—”
“It’s okay,” I say quickly, not wanting her to feel like she needs to explain or justify. “I just want to be with you.”
And I mean it with every fiber of my being.
